


Coping Mechanisms

by NightBlueSky



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Angst, Could be seen as romantic, Cutting, Everyone Is Kind of OC, Friendship, How Do I Tag, Hurt!Haruka, Hurt/Comfort, Ichinose Tokiya is a good bro, Jinguji Ren is a good bro, Mostly due to the nature of the fic, Panic Attacks, Season 3 and 4 Haruka needs a nap, Self-Harm, but still, first fic, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:07:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28974843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightBlueSky/pseuds/NightBlueSky
Summary: In which Haruka starts cutting due to the pressure she faces and tries to hide it from Starish.There is no intended romance in this story, but you are free to read it through the eyes of subtext, however accidental it may be.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	Coping Mechanisms

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all. Thanks for checking out this fic. This is the first fanficion I’ve published and I’m really kind of using it to vent. There’s a lack of self-harm stories for this fandom, which should be a good thing, but alas, here I am. 
> 
> TW for Self-Harm, Cutting, Blood, Panic Attacks (kind of). If you feel any of these will trigger you, please don’t read. Take care of yourselves. 
> 
> Please note that I do NOT support people hurting themselves or others. If you think it’s unrealistic, please keep that opinion to yourself; almost everything that happens in this fic has been some cumulation of stories about self-harm from people I personally know, including myself.
> 
> That said, I hope someone enjoys this. It was fun to write.

She couldn’t do it anymore. She could no longer compose songs full of light and happiness the way she usually did. She was overworked, stressed, and suffering from a severe bout of insomnia, if the bags under her pale eyes were any indication. Haruka’s spark was gone.

She had rehearsal the next few days with Starish and she knew each of the men would notice if she looked run down or fatigued but she couldn’t sleep. Her mind was racing but none of her thoughts contained any music worth writing down; at least then she would have stayed awake for a reason. But no, unfortunately for Haruka, she hadn’t spent the past 56 hours awake for a composition to come to her, but rather to feel so tired that her pent up frustration escaped her.

That’s how she ended up in a heap on the floor sobbing with bloody knuckles. She was so desperate for sleep that her emotions were no longer in check and her body couldn’t do anything to provide the emotional release she so desperately needed. Tears flowed down her cheeks and her eyes were red as she just couldn’t take it anymore. One moment she was sitting on her bed trying not to cry because why should she be crying? She was tired, not sad dammit and she had no reason to cry but repressing her tears just made her want to cry more and then BAM! Her fist connected with her closet and she could no longer hold her tears back anymore. She fell to the ground and wept until she slept, a feeling of ease washing over her.

She awoke early the next morning feeling surprisingly well-rested for someone who fell asleep on the floor, but she still hadn’t composed a new song worthy of Starish. Her problem wasn’t solved but now she had injured her hands, her lifeline, in addition to disappointing Shining Saotome, who expected Haruka to have a new song by yesterday. Starish wouldn’t mind if she took the extra time needed to create a song everyone would love, but despite knowing this she still felt guilty for delaying their rehearsal schedule.

Rehearsal...

Oh crap! Haruka had forgotten about their rehearsal in, she looked at the clock, thirteen minutes! Not much time but enough for her to wash her face, apply some concealer, and clean her knuckles, including putting some antibacterial ointment on it. She couldn’t risk an infection on her hands. Her reflection in the mirror didn’t look like her, but it would have to do. She could only hope the young men wouldn’t spend too much time studying her today and focus on their rehearsal instead. She knew she would rarely be so lucky, but when she arrived at the practice room, the men were nowhere to be found. 

Had she gotten the time wrong? It was 9:15 so they should be here. She checked which practice room she was in. Nope, she was in the Moon practice room, same as always. Just then she saw Shinomiya heading towards the kitchen dragging a distressed-looking Syo along with him. 

“Good morning Haru-chan! How’s your Saturday going so far?” The taller blonde asked. 

“Good morning Shinomiya-san. Syo-kun.” Haruka responded, trying to put her usual energy into her voice. Judging from Syo’s fured brows, it didn’t quite convince him. Damn. “My- Wait. Did you say Saturday?”

Shinomiya replied with an energetic, “Yep!” His voice grew concerned, “Did you forget what day it was? That’s not like you at all Haru-chan.”

“Natsuki’s right,” The shorter man put his palm to her forehead, “You don’t feel warm though. Is everything okay?”

She waved them both off with an “oh yes I’m fine, must have gotten lost in my work,” internally cringing that she forgot what day it was. They all knew she was clumsy, but they also knew her well enough to know she wasn’t forgetful. The last thing she wanted was the men to worry over her and distract her from composing. 

Haruka spent the rest of Saturday locked in a practice room with nothing but a piano, a pencil, and staff paper, and while a few melodies came to her, nothing was good enough. She wasn’t good enough. Why wasn’t she good enough anymore? Nothing had changed between a week ago when she submitted her previous new song and now, had it? Ah, she mused, something has changed. I can’t sleep anymore. Why? Why can’t I sleep? And then it hit her.

Pain. After punching her closet door she felt content. Sure she had cried, but when she thought about it, it was more from her emotional outburst than the pain. In fact, she had barely felt anything at all.

That’s that then, she decided. Tonight I’ll see if pain will help me sleep. Haruka’s next question was how do I inflict pain?

And then she saw it. Her spare pair of scissors. She had lost the original pair from her sewing kit years ago, but when Ittoki heard she was in need of a new pair, he returned from the store with the first pair he saw. After trying to explain there were different scissors for different things and him returning her gaze with a blank stare, she shook her head, thanked him nonetheless, but still bought a pair of sewing scissors the next day. Her extra pair of scissors that had never been used. Perfect. 

Haruka wondered if pain would satisfy her need for sleep, but a part of her mind warned her to not leave any scars or risk infection. When she went to the bathroom, she returned with hydrogen peroxide as a disinfectant and bandages. Next thing was trying to figure out where she should inflict pain. She wanted easy access but not a spot that was noticeable. She didn’t want Starish to worry and she certainly didn’t want to be fired from Shining Agency. Shining Saotome was an eccentric man and Haruka had no idea how he would react if he thought composing was too much for her. She needed her job but she also needed sleep.

She was willing to take this risk. 

Haruka pinned up her reddish-orange hair, lifted up her skirt, and made a shallow cut into the flesh on her thighs. Her blood was an unusually dark red. Had it always been that color? It didn’t matter. Once wasn’t enough. She dragged the blade against her skin again, hissing from the pain.

But, it also felt... good?

It still wasn’t enough. 

More. More. More. 

By the time she was done, her side was littered with red scars all intersecting and overlapping. She watched in fascination as beads of blood pooled and streamed down her leg. Coming down from her pain-induced high, she finally felt tired. She forwent the disinfectant but managed to bandage her wounds. As she fell asleep, she felt a hint of guilt, but it was just as quickly forgotten as she fell into a much-needed deep sleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Haruka awoke from her alarm with a start. She hadn’t felt this well-rested since before attending Saotome Academy. It had worked. She swallowed a lump in her throat and her mouth was dry but while she felt guilt for the act itself, she felt even more guilty at herself for enjoying it. She had liked the feeling of the sharp pain her scissors provided. Even more so, she liked seeing her richly colored blood flow. She had yet to realize how dependent on that pain she would become.

As Haruka got dressed and ready for the day, a melody began to form in her head. She rushed to the piano and began to play the delicate keys. It was a song unlike anything she had ever previously written. Powerful, yet delicate. Frantic, but with melancholic undertones. Then she understood. It was different because it wasn’t written with the singers in mind; she had written a song meant for Haruka herself.

“That’s beautiful. Who is it for?”

She jumped. She hadn’t expected anyone to arrive for rehearsal so early. A brief glance to the clock told her she had once again lost track of time, it was only ten minutes before their joint rehearsal would start. Looking up from the keys, her eyes met dark blue. “Nanami? Is everything okay?”

“Ah. Sorry Hijirikawa-san, I must have gotten lost in my work.”

He nodded, “I understand. You were focused on nothing but your music. You never answered my question though, is this a new song for Starish? It’s masterfully composed and the harmonies and melodies are very complex. But it sounds almost,” Masato hesitated, searching for the right word, “sorrowful,” he settled on. “Different than our usual songs.”

“Um yeah. It is kind of sorrowful, isn’t it? I hadn’t been thinking about anyone in particular,” she lied, “I was thinking Starish’s new song could be something like this.” 

She had never been much for praying, but she threw a quick prayer to the Muses Cecil always talked about, hoping they would help her in some way to compose a new song. As she placed her fingers on the keys once more, her dexterous, nimble fingers started to dance across the keys creating a new song also unlike her previous compositions. This song, however, was full of hope and perseverance. Were the Muses trying to tell her something? When the last chord rang, she opened her eyes (she fleetingly wondered when she had closed them) to find seven men staring at her with smiles on their faces. Haruka had found their next song.

“Wow, Haruka! The Muses have appeared in your music again!”

“That’s an amazing song, Haru-chan!”

“My Lady, hearing you compose such a wonderful song fills me with an overflowing passion.”

As each complement overlapped, no one noticed Masato standing back, brows furrowed, a look of concern on his face. He would be paying Haruka a visit after rehearsal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Haruka groaned. She had just arrived back at her dorm room. Who could be at her door? She was rarely visited in her room, if someone wanted to talk to her they usually did so after practice but before she was in her room. “Just a minute!” she called getting up to open the door, where she was face to face with Masato. 

“Sorry to bother you, Namani. I know you’re immensely busy with duet projects and Triple S compositions, but I wanted to stop by and check in with you. Your song earlier was beautiful, but as I said earlier, it was also sorrowful and melancholic. You don’t normally write such sad songs. As a fellow pianist and your friend, I wanted to ask, is everything okay?” 

Haruka lowered her gaze, “yes, I’m fine Hijirikawa-san. Just worn out. Thank you for checking in with me.” She put on a smile she hoped was convincing. He didn’t push the issue any further, but they both knew she was hiding something.

“Okay Nanami,” he sighed. “I can’t help with composing, but if you need anything else, I would gladly help. So would any member of Starish or Quartet Night,” he added as an afterthought. “Don’t push yourself too hard.” 

She met his gaze and the corners of her mouth turned upward, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes, “Thank you.” But she knew then there was no way she’d never cut again.

As Masato saw himself out, Haruka returned to her piano, leaned her staff paper against the music desk, and began to write. Her previous melody had yet to be written down, but even if she tried to forget, she knew it wouldn’t disappear. This song was her burden and if she wanted to compose songs for others again, she would first need to overcome her burning desire to play for herself. Her songs were written specifically for the intended singer, each with their own style and emotions incorporated into the piece, and as Haruka focused spent more and more time focusing on a song meant for her, her motivation began to dwindle further, dragging her deep into a depressive state.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a week later and Haruka had managed to somehow piss off fans of Heavens, Starish, and Quartet Night all at once. An interview was released the day prior with Starish and Haruka. The first interview Shining Saotome had allowed her to do. Composers were not idols after all, and few fans cared enough to learn who writes the songs their favorite idols sing. The President had given her a chance to boost her reputation with other agencies and while Haruka was grateful for the opportunity, she hadn’t had many experiences being in front of a camera, much less being the center of attention and focus of interviewers. As a result, when asked about her composing process for Starish’s new hit song, she had accidentally said she puts her feelings into her songs for the singer. She had meant to say she puts the singers feelings into the song for them, as that was her job, but by the time she realized her mistake, the men were complimenting her, voices full of pride and admiration. The fans had run with her statement and Starish’s response and interpreted it to mean she had romantic feelings for them, then a new fan pointed out she had also composed for Quartet Night and Heavens. 

It was too late. Online sites blew up accusing Haruka of being a slut and a whore, with not one idol, not three or four, but eighteen different men, all of whom she shared nothing more than a professional relationship and friendship with. She knew many of the men harbored romantic feelings towards her, she wasn’t oblivious, but however they felt were irrelevant. All that mattered in the eyes of the fans was that someone was hooking up with their beloved idols. Even worse, what if Shining Saotome believed these rumors? While she was no longer bound by his ‘no love’ rule, as idols, they still were. 

Tears streamed down her face and without thinking, she grabbed her scissors and cut deep into her thigh. She needed to feel human again, needed to feel something aside from the emotional pain. She had never been great at compartmentalizing and with her frailty as a child, she had never learned usual coping mechanisms for stress. She knew somewhere in the back of her mind what she was doing wasn’t healthy, but she didn’t care. That would be a problem for Future Haruka. But Current Haruka just needed to be distracted. What better way than through pain? It had worked for sleep, why not for emotional turmoil?

She slashed and slashed at her skin. The first time she had cut, she had carefully chosen a spot where it wouldn’t be seen, but now she didn’t care. Who cares if someone saw her cuts? Who cares about the truth? Who cares about her? She certainly didn’t. Her heart was a black void, and her mind was blank, feeling nothing but the sharp pain of her blade. That night she cried herself to sleep. 

The next morning, unlike the previous time she cut, she hadn’t awoken well-rested. The state of her bedding told her she had tossed and turned in her sleep. Her eyelids were heavy, her body felt sluggish, and there were dark circles underneath her eyes. She looked and felt like hell. But she didn’t feel guilt. She had found a release of energy she had never experienced before and she wouldn’t let it go. 

As she woke up and got ready for the day, she had trouble picking out her clothes. No matter what she told herself the night before, now that they were wounds across her thigh, she did feel self-conscious. Her worry increased when she thought of her friends and how they would react. By now they surely were aware of the rumors surrounding her and would most likely be paying closer attention to her than usual, if that were possible. Ideally, they would issue a statement that idols weren’t allowed to date, but even then there would still be rumors about her involvement with Heavens. The ‘No Love’ rule only applied to Shining Agency, not Raging Entertainment. Unless Heavens also issued a statement denying the rumors, she was stuck, and there was no guarantee they would do so.

Lost in her thoughts, Haruka grabbed a longer deep blue dress to wear that would cover her thighs while standing, but would just barely cover them while sitting. She didn’t have any other clothes she could wear without her wounds being on display. As she changed, her thoughts only became more intrusive and depressing.

No one cares about you. Your parents didn’t even want you. They had to send you off to your grandmother’s house, far away from them. You aren’t a good composer. Your songs are only revered because idols are singing them. If music isn’t what you live for, then why are you alive? Just die already. No one would miss you. And the cycle kept repeating itself. Over and over. Then the world went dark.

“-mi-san.”

“-anami-san.”

“Nanami Haruka-san!”

So bright. Why is everything so bright? she thought as her eyes opened, “Ichinose-san?”

“Ah thank goodness. You were late to our meeting about our new song so I came to check on you, only to find you collapsed,” Tokiya said. “We can postpone our meeting. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

That woke her up. “No Ichinose-san, please don’t delay the meeting. I don’t want the others to worry about me. I’m not overworked, I promise. I must have gotten dizzy standing up too fast,” she begged as she started to rise, taking the hand he extended.

“Nanami-san, I really think you should take the day o-,” his eyes lowered to where her dress bunched up. Lowering his voice he asked, “What are those?”

Haruka flinched, looking down. Her skirt hadn’t covered the red gashes as much as she had hoped. While pulling it lowered on her waist, feigning innocence, she replied, “I must have gotten scratched by the stray cat I feed,” Haruka mustered her best smile.

Tokiya wasn’t impressed. “I asked as a courtesy to see if you would respond honestly, but you and I both know those aren’t cat scratches. I know how you feel-” her head snapped up “-I’ve been there, but you can’t hurt yourself, Nanami-san. No… Haruka-san. Is that okay?” She nodded, still stunned by his admission. “The path toward being HAYATO was painful and long for me. I wanted to become an idol since I was young and in doing so, my parents disowned me. Then after becoming an idol, my agency prevented me from singing, which was why I became an idol to begin with. My family didn’t want me, my agency didn’t give me freedom, and my songs had lost their heart. It was a dark time. But Haruka-san, you and Starish gave me hope and friendship. Two things I hadn’t felt in a long time. That saved me.” A pause, “You saved me.”

“Ichinose-san-”

“Tokiya,” he cut her off. At her blank stare, he elaborated, “I think this conversation has given you reason to call me my given name.”

“Tokiya-san,” she blushed, “I didn’t do anything… You stopped by yourself, but I… I’m not s-strong enough. I can’t. Have you seen the online forums about me recently? I’m being called horrible things, Tokiya-san, horrible. They aren’t true but no one will listen. And I can’t compose anymore, it’s like my mind won’t let me see the music unless I feel something. All I feel is numb. I need to feel again.” At this she collapsed into Tokiya’s arms, too emotionally exhausted to feel embarrassed about the sudden contact.

The taller man froze for a second, unsure what to do to comfort the weeping girl in his arm. After a moment, he placed one arm over her shoulder to steady her, and the other hand on her trembling back, slowly rubbing his hand in a circle, “I know Nanami-san. I know. It’s hard, but you can do it. I know you can. You’re Starish’s composer, you can do anything. And you aren’t alone. You have us. Starish and Quartet Night and even Heavens. We’re all here for you. It’ll get better, but please promise me if you feel the need to hurt yourself again, you’ll come talk to me. “For it to get better, you first have to decide you want to stop, okay?”

She sniffled, opened her mouth, but whatever she was about to say was cut off with a resounding, “Oi! Icchi! What do you think you’re doing to the Little Lamb?!”

“Ren, Nanami-san and I were just-”

“Tokiya-san was helping me! I felt sick and was about to faint, but he caught me,” Haruka lied. She tried to ignore the look Tokiya was giving her, instead trying to convey to him she didn’t want the others to know what they were discussing or that she had a breakdown. Ren was too caught up in his own assumptions to notice the exchange.

“‘Tokiya-san’ and ‘Nanami-san,’ eh? Since when did you call each other your given names? You’re both so formal in your speaking, so something more must have happened between you to have prompted this change,” Jinjugi was fuming. Not that one of his bandmates had supposedly broken the coveted ‘No Love’ rule, but that it had been with His Lady.

“Ren I assure you, I would not put Starish in jeopardy by breaking the only rule the President has. We were talking about,” he shot Haruka a look to which she shook her head, “...something private. It most likely won’t be a secret forever, but hopefully the next time we talk about it, it will be in the past.”

Ren’s eyebrow twitched. That was such a vague explanation. He still wasn’t certain about whether they were telling the truth about their relationship status, but that couldn’t have been what they were talking about. “Hopefully it will be in the past?” That’s no way to talk about a healthy relationship, especially one with such a beautiful woman as the Little Lamb. But Icchi would tell us if something were wrong with My Lady or if she were in danger, right? The older man decided to accept their explanation. They had only broken his trust once and that was only because they couldn’t tell him or Starish about Tokiya being HAYATO. 

He sighed. “Okay Icchi, I’ll keep your secret, but if either of you are in danger, you can talk to us, y’know. We’re a team.” His hand reached out for Haruka’s and she gratefully accepted. “Little Lamb, if you feel faint, you should eat some food, drink some water, and sleep. Don’t spend your time at a meeting we can postpone if you’re sick.”

“No! I just need some water then I’ll be alright. I’ve already burdened everyone with delivering your song late and being late to rehearsal. Please let me get started on your new song right away! I’ll do my best!” The men of Starish knew Haruka was passionate about composing but they had never seen her so stubborn. Haruka, however, wanted as much time as possible to finish the song. With her recent roadblock, she needed as much time as she was allowed. Eventually they relented. 

“Nanami-san, would it be okay if we held the meeting in your room instead so you can relax? I don’t mean to presume, but I fear you may pass out again and it would be best for you if you were in the comfort of your own room,” Tokiya worried. He may have managed to convince Ren there was nothing going on with Haruka, but with five other men watching him and her, he feared Haruka’s secret would be divulged before she was ready. She had kept his secret, and while he hated preventing her from sharing her pain with the other members, he knew if he forced her to tell them or told them without her consent, they would lose her trust. The last thing Haruka needed was to be alone, mentally or physically. Holding the meeting in her room solved both issues for the moment. He made a mental note to check the online forums later too. Perhaps he couldn’t do anything directly for Haruka, but maybe he could help with whatever was being said about her online.

After convincing Ren to keep their conversation under wraps for Haruka’s sake, Tokiya had agreed to return to the meeting and answer any questions the group may have and alert them to the location change. The ginger agreed on the condition they would come to him if anything happened to worsen their mysterious situation. As Tokiya left, Ren kneeled down to where Haruka was sitting and placed a hand on her knee in what was meant to be a comforting gesture. What he hadn’t expected was for her to flinch. His face dropped. She wasn’t just sick; something more must be going on. Why else would she flinch at his touch? Was she scared of him? Was she, he hated his mind for jumping to conclusions, assaulted in some way? He made a final attempt to figure out what was wrong, maybe she would give more answers if Tokiya wasn’t around. Alas, all he could get out of her was the unconvincing reassurance that she was okay. She wasn’t an actor and Starish knew her better than anyone. She couldn’t fool them. The question was what was going on?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seven weeks had passed, and so far Haruka had kept her promise to Tokiya, with one relapse. She had gone to him twelve times since that day, each an impromptu meeting with varying amounts of time between them. The blue-haired man had provided comfort when she needed it, and distraction when she didn’t. Saotome hadn’t approached them and neither had any band members, though he knew they were curious. Ren had also met with them once, though by accident. The man had gone for a walk to the lake for fresh air, but was surprised to discover two figures talking in the gazebo which was normally vacant. He only needed to meet Tokiya’s eyes to know their meeting pertained to Haruka’s secret. The ginger had asked if he should leave, but was grateful that both had agreed he should stay. He didn’t manage to discover any additional information aside from the fact that His Lady had taken some online rumors to heart. Shining had refused to dispel them, saying they were part of how this industry worked, which had made Haruka even more unlike herself than usual.

Haruka had stopped pushing herself to the point where she no longer ate nor slept, but it was evident on her face she was still working too hard and everyone knew it. Natsuki had stopped by her room to deliver cookies, but she had never managed to eat any; Syo appeared at her door a moment later claiming they were dangerous and she should eat something else instead, while placing chocolate in her hand then running away, face red as Otoya’s hair. Masato had stopped by offering to clean and check if her piano was in tune, and though Haruka had tried to assure him she could clean her own room and tune her own piano, she accepted the gesture nonetheless. Even Satsuki had made an appearance, much to her surprise.

It had been a long month and a half, with some days dragging out into eons, but there had also been days that had gone by in the blink of an eye. Time was unusual that way. On this particular day, time was endless and Haruka was struggling. She had made it a consecutive month without cutting, but had Tokiya take away her scissors, both her sewing and her spare after a relapse. At the time she was grateful for his help, but now she needed them. She needed them so bad. Her skin was on fire and her mind was racing, and her breaking was shallow, as though something was sitting on her preventing air from entering her lungs. 

She had only cut thrice, but she was addicted. The pain was her salvation. She wasn’t sure what had caused her sudden need to draw blood tonight, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to survive this night alone. She picked up the phone, dialing the number she had almost memorized by now. It had become her mantra, repeating it over and over while she had awaited his arrival. He had never once failed to answer, but tonight, his phone was off. Desperate to keep her promise, she had tried Jinguji, who knew the most about her aside from Tokiya, but he had not responded either.

In a daze, she had found her way to Tokiya’s room and knocked, but when her last attempt was met with silence, she ran to the bathroom, grabbed a razor blade and dragged it deep across her skin. Relief at last. She had missed the feeling of metal on her skin, deep red beading then dripping down, following the curve of her leg. But this instrument was different. While she could still feel the pain and admire her blood, the razor was sharper, more precise than a dull scissor blade, and that thrilled her. She experimented with how the razor felt for a moment, then, getting lost in the high of her pain, cut mindlessly under her thigh was a mixture of lines. Criss-crossed, overlapping, and individual stripes matted together in a portrait of red against her pale ivory skin. 

With a sigh, Haruka wiped down the vanity and washed the blood off her hand. As an afterthought, she washed the mosaic on her skin. I’m sorry Tokiya, she thought, I tried. I really did.

She brought the razor back to her room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was awoken to a loud BAM BAM BAM at her door, and a scared sounding Cecil calling her name, “Haruka! Haruka! Please open up! It’s important!”

Grumbling, she tumbled out of bed, putting on her robe to cover last night’s relapse, and opened the door with a disgruntled, “Can I help you, Cecil-san?”

Ignoring her response, he strode into her room, shutting the door behind him. Grabbing her hands, he pleaded, “Haruka, please tell me what’s wrong. I’m very worried about you. The Muses appeared to me in a dream, telling me a person I cherish is in danger from themselves. We all know something is going on Haruka, but you need to tell us so we can help. Please.”

“I... I can’t. I don’t know how to,” she admitted, eyes downcast. “Someone knows and is trying to help, but I can’t do it anymore Cecil-san. I can’t compose anymore. Did you know when I first played piano in front of my class back at Saotome Academy, my fingers froze? It was like I forgot how to play. I feel like that now. My heart has forgotten how to compose.”

Cecil looked at the pink-haired girl, his green eyes softening. “You’ve been composing beautiful songs Haruka. Even over these past few months. You’ve acted different, but you can still compos-”

“You don't understand. I can’t. Imagine if someone hid away your heart and your voice. You would still be able to sing, but it’s like your voice is blocked. It takes so much effort just to get out a single note, much less an entire song with multiple different harmonies and melodies. Don’t you get it Cecil?! I can’t!”

He backed away, stunned by the normally timid woman’s outburst. She never yelled. Something was seriously wrong. This wasn’t the Nanami Haruka he knew and loved, this was someone else entirely.

Apparently he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

The other members of Starish arrived, panting, looks of concern filling their faces. They had never heard Haruka raise her voice or be anything aside from polite, so for her to yell at Cecil... What was going on?

Suddenly, Tokiya was kneeling before her, clasping her hands. “Hey, Haruka-san? Haruka-san, look at me please. Hey, it’ll be okay. Did something happen last night?” Her yellow eyes filling with tears was the only response he needed. Dropping his head, he sighed, “Okay. That sucks but it happens. Let’s sit down and talk, okay? I’m-”

Tokiya was cut off with an angry Syo. “What the hell is going on here? Tokiya if you know what’s going on with Nanami, you shouldn’t hide it from us! Nanami, we care about you. You can tell us anything, instead of just one of us.”

“No Syo-kun, I told him to not tell anyone. He found out that..,” she hesitated, “he found out why I’m acting different by complete accident and then Jinguji-san found us and we didn’t get time to discuss how to tell everyone. I hope it would have gone away by now, but it hasn’t. And I’m just so broken. Everyone, I’m so sorry. I can’t.”

“Can’t what Nanami?” Otoya asked in a strained voice. “What’s going on? Nanami, you can trust us. You don’t need to suffer alone anymore.” By the time the last words were out of his mouth, Haruka was weeping. Five faces looked on in pain, trying to figure out how to help, while Tokiya and Ren sprung into action. Ren still wasn’t sure what Haruka was going through, but he had seen her being comforted by Tokiya before, so without thinking, he drew her into a hug. He would let her cry into his chest and rub circles on her back while Tokiya talked to her in a hushed and soothing voice. 

“Haruka-san, it’ll get better. You can always call me Haruka-san. Always. I know you didn’t feel like you could last night, but you can call any of us. I’m so sorry I didn’t answer. You must have called while I was on a job with Ren and Otoya. But… hey, I thought you gave me your scissors? I’m not mad if you went into my room, but we should get rid of them after you calm down, okay?”

Masato was the first to snap out his daze and realize what had happened. Walking over to her, he asked, “Nanami? Did you intentionally hurt yourself?”

Still clutching Ren’s tear-stained shirt like a lifeline, she looked up, and in a near-whisper, answered with a timid “yes.”

Masato was stunned, clearly not expecting a confirmation, but Natsuki was the next to address the woman. “Haruka,” he began seriously, using her given name rather than her nickname, “I just want you to know that no one’s mad at you, okay? If you were worried about that, please don’t be. If you didn’t know, we all care for you immensely and nothing you have done, or may do, changes that.”

“Would you like us to leave, Nanami?” Masato offered, having regained his composure. When the shortest of the group looked as though he would strangle him, he elaborated. “We would all stay here if you’d like, but am I wrong in assuming you’d like some privacy now?”

She sniffled. “I think I need a nap, if that’s okay?” 

“Should one of us stay here to watch you?”

A slap on the head. “Ow Syo~, what was that for?”

“Nanami’s an adult Cecil, she doesn’t need us monitoring her, idiot!”

“My bad, my bad, that’s not what I meant. ‘Does Haruka want someone to stay with her tonight’ was all I meant.”

“Thank you everyone. I’m sorry for bothering everyone. I’ll be okay.” Getting up, she went to her vanity and pulled out something thin and small, placing it in Tokiya’s hand with shame. “I’m sorry.”

Curling his fist around the object he thanked her, while leaving her room, following five of his bandmates. Before the last person was out the door, a tug on his shirt stopped him. “Stay? Just for a little while?”

He smiled, “Of course, Little Lamb.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“How long have you known?”

“Will Nanami be okay?”

“How’d you find out?”

“What did she give you just now?”

“Does this relate to why you now call her ‘Haruka-san’?”

“What did she mean ‘she can’t compose’?”

“How long has she been hurting herself?”

As his friends bombarded him with questions, all he could do was make his way to a couch and sit down. “One at a time, please. Haruka-san never meant for any of us to know. I found out by accident. Remember when we held a meeting in Haruka-san’s room? I found out that day when getting her for the meeting and when we were late, Ren found us. He knew something was going on and made it a point to check in with us, but he didn’t pry. Since then, she’s come to me when she’s felt the need to cut.”

“But that was almost two months ago!” Otoya interrupted. “Why couldn’t you tell us? We could have helped.”

Tokiya sighed, “I wanted to tell you guys but she needed to be the one to do it. If I betrayed her trust by telling you, then she would have felt more alone. For the time being, I decided to keep her secret because… because I’ve been where she is. She kept my secret about being HAYATO and she’s kept the fact that I have also self-harmed to herself. I accept any blame you have directed towards me, but I would really like each of you to think how you would feel in either mine or Haruka-san’s position.”

His friends paused, ashamed of their accusations. Their bandmate hadn’t wanted to keep them in the dark, but felt it was best for Haruka. Finally, it was Masato who broke the silence, “if you don’t mind my asking, how did you stop and how can we help Nanami do the same?”

“I don’t know. It was you guys who helped me but Haruka-san hasn’t felt confident enough to stop. My singing helped me, but her composing is partly what she feels numb about.”

“Like when Haru-chan couldn’t play in front of the class,” Natsuki said. As Syo and Tokiya’s blank looks, he elaborated, explaining Haruka’s stage-fright back at the Academy. 

“So Nanami couldn’t play? What helped her get through it?” Syo asked. 

“I believe I did,” Masato explained. “We worked together to play little by little. She just needed to know she could overcome her obstacle. Once she knew she could, she could play again.”

“Ah so maybe we should-”

The door swung open, and Ren and Haruka walked through. Giving Ren a questioning glance, to which he nodded, Haruka bowed toward the men, declaring, “I apologize for worrying everyone. I am ready to accept help. Please give me your patience.”

“I helped Little Lamb understand that we need her. Not her songs, but her. She had been feeling stressed to be the best composer for us, but I told her we don’t want the best composer or need the best songs. We just need her.”

“I had been feeling the pressure to compose the best songs for everyone and the rumors from a few months ago have resurfaced. I haven’t been able to put my feelings aside to write songs for you all.”

“Haru-chan. I’m not a professional composer like you, but have you thought about putting your emotions into the songs you compose, instead of putting them aside? I’m sure those songs would also be super cute since you’re the one writing them,” Natsuki suggested. 

“Ah-” She paused. “No actually, I hadn’t. But, I don’t write songs for me, I write them for my clients.”

Masato interrupted, “What about that song? The one you played before I visited you two months ago or so. I didn’t understand then, but I think I do now. That song contained your pain and that’s why it sounded so sorrowful. I think Shinomiya was on the right track. Write songs with your feelings but don’t do it as part of your job; use composing as an outlet, like how Jinguji plays saxophone or how I do calligraphy-”

“-or how Natsuki bakes and Otoya plays guitar.”

“Yes, those too Aijima. Nanami, do you think you could try? It may not be perfect, but we can try to find something if composing for fun makes you stressed too,” Masato continued.

“...Yes! I’ll try my best.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sorry everyone. I tried. Thank you for being there for me. Composing with my emotions did help, but it wasn’t enough. I still feel numb. I still feel unworthy to compose for everyone. But, above all, I still feel alone. I know I’m not, but I feel like I am. I can’t eat and I can’t sleep. I thought I had no more reason to cut, but I still need it. I really do.

With each thought that ran through her brain, she cut deeper into her thigh. Her turmoil translated to pressure from the blade, each pass drawing more and more red until she was sitting in a bed of her blood. Haruka was no stranger to the enjoyment she felt from seeing her blood pool, but she hadn’t expected it to feel warm and slightly sticky when there was so much of it. She knew she was in danger of losing too much blood now, but she couldn’t stop. Maybe bleeding out wouldn’t be such a bad thing, she thought before feeling her body slump to the floor. 

Maybe my parents would come to my funeral, but they probably wouldn’t. I haven’t seen or heard from them in years. Grandma probably would though. Starish, Heavens, Quartet Night. Tomo-chan. They’re all so busy. Raging Otori wouldn’t care, would Shining Saotome? Probably not. I couldn’t handle the pressure. I’m worthless. 

The door swung open. She vaguely felt someone hold her and someone else call 1-1-9.

“Nanami!”

Wait. 

“Haru-chan!”

I don’t want to die.

“Hold on. Please hold on. Help is coming.”

My grandma. 

“Don’t close your eyes. Stay with us, dammit!”

Starish.

“We need you.”  
Music.

Huh. Music. How can something causing so much pain be something I will miss? How strange. The last thing she heard before darkness overtook her was her song.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As she came to, she felt warmth in her hands and an ache in her leg. Groaning, she grabbed the warmth in her hands, closing her fingers around her sole source of comfort, waking up the two men who were holding her hands. 

“Haruka-san.”

“Little La- Haruka.”

She smiled faintly before opening her eyes. She was in a small room, with an IV in her arm. A steady beat from the EKG told her she was alive. Thank goodness, she thought. She looked up to see Tokiya and Ren smiling at her with tears in their eyes.

“We thought you were gone. Everyone was so worried, and most of them are in the waiting room since only two people at a time can be in this room,” Ren said.

“How are you feeling?” Tokiya asked.

“I feel... ashamed. I was doing so well, but then I had a bad day. I don’t even know why it was a bad day but it was. And after, when I was done, I felt content. Content that I was going to die. But then someone held me and I heard you guys call me and I knew I needed to live. I needed to survive because I would really miss everyone, and I’d really miss music. Right now, I feel bad but I also feel good, because I know I never want to feel that way again,” Haruka explained. “But I don’t think I can do it alone. I need help. You both helped so much, but I think I need professional help.”

“That’s good. Shining feels poorly about not intervening. He said suffering is a part of this industry, but not to the point of cutting yourself until you faint from blood loss,” Tokiya said.

“Can I see everyone?”

“I’ll see what the nurse can do, okay Haruka?”

“Thank you… Ren. But you’ll have to let go my hand to do that,” she chuckled.

For the first time in a while, Ren was flustered. “O-oh. Of course.” They both let go of Haruka’s hands, a faint blush across their cheeks. 

“Haruka-san. Do you know much we were worried about you? Why didn’t you call us? We could have helped you.”

“Ah, I just felt really poorly. I didn’t feel as though I could face anyone. But in a weird way, I’m happy I couldn’t. I think what I needed was to realize there were better ways to help myself, and I don’t know if I would have recognized that if I didn’t end up in a hospital,” she elaborated. After seeing her friends walk in, all she could do was fidget with her hands and look anywhere but their eyes, “h-hi everyon-oomph!”

She was enveloped in a crushing hug from her best friend. They sat that long enough that Haruka’s face was stained with tears by the time Tomochika retracted her arms. Neither her nor Starish needed words to know Haruka was apologizing for not talking to them sooner, and when they all gathered around her bed and hugged her, she knew she was forgiven. 

She had support; family. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It has been a long road toward Haruka’s recovery, full of many ups and downs. She had occasional relapses, even after biweekly therapy sessions and help from antidepressants prescribed by a psychiatrist, but she had finally achieved the last part of her recovery. After a full year and a half clean with no desire to cut in over a year, she decided to leave her past behind her with a work of art permanently etched into her skin as a reminder she isn’t alone. Her family will always be there for her and they always have been, she just needed to hit rock-bottom to realize it. 

Her ink wrapped around her thigh, with the most meaningful measures of her melancholic composition overlaying the piano keys. Her talent for music had returned after a temporary break granted by Shining Saotome and the use of antidepressants, and while she still occasionally composed songs for herself as a way of releasing stress, only one captured her emotions about her self-harm journey: the original song Masato had heard nearly two and a half years ago. 

It was a song only they had heard, as an original or as an arrangement. It was also the only song she had ever written lyrics for. Perhaps one day she would feel confident sharing it with the others, but for now it was their secret. 

And that was fine by her.

**Author's Note:**

> So how’d I do? Yes, I know tattoos aren’t really accepted in Japan and Haruka doesn’t seem the type to get one even if they were, but too bad. I have an awesome tattoo covering my scars on my thigh and I love it! It really does feel like I put that chapter behind me, so I though it was important for Haruka to experience that too.
> 
> I also didn’t know how to end this fic so I hope it was okay. I really wanted to add that she now calls them all by their first names and I also debated ending it with Haruka ending up with someone undisclosed, but I figured that wasn’t necessary. It’s not really about romance y’know?
> 
> I write for fun and while I will accept ways to improve (if said nicely) I really don’t want your criticisms. COVID and college are hard enough for me lol.


End file.
